


Persona 5: Shatter the Chains

by AquirsChan



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Aimee Samodra/Everyone Male, Aimee is 13, Aimee is a smartass, Angst, Because of the love thing, Demiromantic Aimee, Even the God, Everyone thinks they're 16, Family, Insanity, LITERALLY, Obsessive Loyalty, Severe Depression, She is also really really friendly, Slice of Life, Suicidal Thoughts, The wonders of the human mind, home sickness, maybe beastiality?, pedophilism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-01-09 08:30:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12272706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AquirsChan/pseuds/AquirsChan
Summary: Aimee Samodra was just a regular 13-year old girl with social issues when she was thrown into Persona 5's Tokyo. Willing to do anything to get home. She gets involved in greater schemes with an almost unflinching motivation. Until she decides to go to an art exhibit and meets Yusuke Kitagawa. Might go up to Rated M in later story.





	1. Chapter 1

A/N: Will be shown in the POVs of the characters besides Aimee. This is a short prequel to MMM. Aimee is not the protagonist, but is instead a Confidant to the Phantom Thieves and more. BTW, Aimee is 13 in this ‘cause Persona 5 starts in 2016.

 

P.S Sorry for not updating MMM these few weeks. I actually update pretty irregularly. But hope for new chapters on either Saturday or Sunday.

* * *

*Confidant START*

The Emperor: The Artist & The Lonely Soul

 

Today was a another day on Madarame’s or Sensei’s exhibit. I met up with Ann and her two boorish friends. They didn’t seem to enjoy the exhibition, but Takamaki seemed to understand the emotions of paintings. 

 

They left just a few minutes ago, and I was left to my own devices once more. I started to mingle around, not talking to anyone when someone caught my attention. 

 

It was a girl, who looked about a year younger than me. She was wearing a large purple jacket with the hood up, but I could see a few strands of black hair under it. 

 

She was staring at one of m-Sensei’s paintings, probably was here for the exhibit. But what captured my attention wasn’t her strange taste of clothing or empty body language (It looked so emotionless, so devoid of life), it was her aura. I had never felt anything like it, not even when I first saw the Sayuri. It drew my in like a fly to the light. I had to ask her!

 

I practically ran up to her and tapped my hand on her left shoulder. When she didn’t react for five seconds, I was about to shake her when she finally looked up with her big dark brown eyes at me. “What do you want?” She asked me in a monotone, yet melodious voice. 

 

“I wish to ask of you a favor. Would you allow me to paint you?” Her dull eyes seemed to lighten up a bit, but it almost instantly disappears. “And why would you ask me of all people? Isn’t there someone else?”

 

I nodded at her and opened my mouth, barely noticing her moving her lips in soft murmurs, “Yes. I do have another subject of which to paint, but you have captured my attention and I must paint you! Unlike her, who had lit my flame of inspiration through her looks, you have a unique aura that would put true life into my next creation!”

 

She just stared at me with those beautiful, empty eyes (Is there something wrong with her?) for about ten seconds. Then she asked me something surprising, “Do you know what it’s like to feel emotion?” 

 

I was caught off guard and tried to regain my composure. After that, I saw that she was still staring at me. I didn’t know how to answer, so I responded with another question. “Why do you want to know how emotions feel? Shouldn’t you be able to know that yourself?” With that, she turned away from me, I felt a sudden pang in my chest. Have I lost my chance!?

 

Apparently, that wasn’t the case as she said, “No I don’t. I’ve forgotten. I haven’t felt emotion in a long time.” She turned to me again. “When something has been taken from you, something so precious that you would prefer that the world to go to hell instead of lose it.” 

 

She looked at me with those eyes. “You tend to lose the things that make you you. ‘Cause I am thou, thou art I. There are many parts of you, to deny any of them is a tragedy. I don’t deny any parts of myself, they’re all me. But it’s like all of me has been turned into an endless, empty void. I know it’s bad, but I want them back!”

 

Her mumbles turn into loud words. “I want home! I want them back. I want me back!” And with those words, she walked away. Whirling around the crowds until she was out of my sight.

 

Now I tend to be very oblivious, as stated by Sensei, but even I knew that look. She had a stone wall front, but my intrusion had opened up something. She was broken, torn by so many negative emotions, guilt, hatred, pain, etc. That she had become numb to it. And what scared me the most, was the fact that this was only the surface of the damage. Who knows how long she had been holding onto sanity.

 

With those thoughts in mind, I rushed after her, passing by Takamaki and her friends who looked very bewildered. I followed the girl all the way to the Subway, who then ran towards the Underground Mall. 

 

While searching for her, I heard footsteps behind me, I turn around and saw Takamaki and her friends rushing up towards me. When they reached me, the panted and the blond asked, “Dude, why’re you runnin’? What happened?” The other two looked at me expectantly. I pondered a bit on whether I should answer or not, but right now this was a job that required more than one head.

 

“Although what I do doesn’t concern you, I have no choice other than to ask for your assistance.” 

 

The black haired boy asked, “What about?” 

 

And I replied, “I am chasing a girl. She seemed to be going through something called a ‘mental crisis’ and I have to find her.” 

 

The blond seems to have misinterpreted my words and started to yell at me. “Did you do something to her! If you did then I’m gonna make you-” 

 

“RYUJI! Stop! This is no time to get angry. A girl is going through an emotional breakdown somewhere! Besides, Yusuke’s a lot of things, but he won’t hurt someone purposefully.” Cut off Takamaki-san, making the blond flinch. 

 

He looked at me apologetically, but didn’t say anything else. Takamaki-san then turned to me, “We’ll help you find her. What does she look like.” I responded, “She looks a year younger than you all. And is about an inch shorter than Takamaki-san. She has long black hair and brown eyes. And she’s wearing a purple jacket.” 

 

The one with glasses and Takamaki-san nodded, while the blond cracked his neck. After that we all split up.

 

I searched throughout all the shops looking for the girl. Sometimes I would see the others and they would shake their heads no. 

 

30 minutes later, we all gathered up near the flower shop. They all gave me the same answers, that they couldn’t find anybody matching my description. And with that, I lost hope. I didn’t know if I would ever see her again. I let my chance get away from me.

 

I dropped to my knees, deaf to the concerned voices surrounding me. Then, I felt a tap on my neck. I looked behind me, and there she was! Looking exactly the same, except for the new green apron on her.

 

She said, “What’re you doing here? I’m trying to do my job.” I saw another woman wearing the exact same apron behind her, but I was too happy to care!

 

I picked her up and spun her around, uncaring of the stares that penetrated my back. Eventually, I put her down and then, bowed down in front of her dogenza style.

 

“I’m sincerely sorry for upsetting you! Please accept my apology!” I begged.

 

She just stared at me, and then, hoisted me up by my arm. Then she said, “What’re you talking about?”

 

My face screamed in confusion. “Huh? But you just started shouting a little while ago. And I thought that I was to blame for your previous state.” I replied. 

 

She whistled a sharp note, shrugged and said, “Oh well. I’m sorry for troubling you. But if my guess is correct and you’ve been searching for me, then you don’t need to apologize. I can’t seem to remember what happened.” She tapped her head. “I can’t keep memories like that, so I tend to put them in my mental trashcan.” Then she started to sing so very softly.

 

Everybody sweatdropped at this. How did she forget something so concerning so quickly? And that’s when I realized that she never answered my request. I repeated my previous offer to her, and finally saw a small spark from those cold, dead eyes. It was curiousity.

 

“I guess I could. I’m bored anyways. Do you need my contact info?” She said while pulling out her smartphone. It didn’t look like any model I knew of, but I could hardly care. She said yes! The fires of inspiration she’ll give me may truly bring about a masterpiece! 

 

I grabbed her hands, along with her phone, and knelt down as if proposing. The ravenette and blond had their mouths agape and Takamaki-san was blushing. “Thank you so much!” The girl just looked at me in boredom. “Please let go of my hands.”

 

I let go and stood up, bringing out my smartphone as well. We exchanged our contact info and the girl was about to go back to work, when remembered something else.

 

“Excuse me? I almost forgot about this, but may you please tell me your name? Mine is Kitagawa Yusuke.” I asked. The girl turned back to me, and her hood dropped down from her head. Those features she had, her lips a stunning natural shade of pink and that round face was perfection against her shoulder-length hair.

 

“My name’s Samodra Aimee. It was nice meeting you Kitagawa-san.” She walked off towards her coworker and headed off back to the flower shop.

 

The other three stared at her disappearing form and there was an awkward silence. Until the blond decide to say, “Damn! That girl is hot!”

 

* * *

A/N: Sorry to everyone if this chapter was cringy or something else. And sorry if Yusuke or anybody else was OOC, please review if they are. But I personally think that I at least got his dramaticized love for art at least marginally correct. And if Aimee seems like a Mary-Sue, that’s fine, because she’s not.

 

There are a lot of things that make her seem like a Mary-Sue, but that’s from the POVs of total strangers who have only seen her strengths and none of her weaknesses. 

 

For example, did you know that despite having at least 3 part time jobs, she’s super lazy at home? All she does in her free time is read, sing, or pace around in a certain order. And that she has a mental illness called ‘psychopathy’ and ‘socioism’(I don’t actually know what that’s called). Which basically means that she gets a laugh out of seeing other people injured or dead, but doesn’t really feel anything negative from other people but herself.

 

I’ll let you all discover her other quirks as you go along in the story. Or maybe read the sequel fic where it expands on her character from her viewpoint and the narrator’s view. 

 

Now I will see you all in the next chapter. BUH BYE EVERYONE!!!


	2. Emperor Rank II: An Uncolored Portrait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yusuke tries to create an art piece, fails miserably, listens to philosophic spiel from a random girl, and starts having a friendship with said girl.

A/N: Welcome back to P5:STC with me as your host! Hey everybody, it’s nice to be writing again. And sorry for the like, three week hiatus on MMM. Lots of stuff happened like school and stuff, and I’ve been trying to get my hands on some manuscripts but let just say that the internet is a bitch.

 

Now if any of you interpret this scene as weird or anything. Don’t. All of it is purely my own fault for being a crap writer and besides, Aimee has like, a more hefty personality and mindset compared to everyone else. And also, she is one of the most oblivious, trolling, and gullible people ever. Coupled with the fact that she sees everyone else as little tiny horror babies, you get the production of the most demiromantic and demisexual characters ever.

 

But without further ado, let’s get this show rolling!

 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the games in the Persona Series. I only own my OC.

 

* * *

 

*Confidant START!*

 

It’s been a day after Takamaki and the others, now known as Sakamoto and Kurusu, came over for the session. Unfortunately, they left before I could even start. As I mulled over what went wrong, my smartphone started ringing. It was Samodra’s number.

 

I picked up and held it up to my ear, Samodra’s voice soon reached me, albeit there was a little bit shakiness in her monotone voice. “Kitagawa-san? Is this you?” She asked. I responded, “Yes, it is me. Why are you calling?”

 

“I just got out of my day job and I have some freetime. Do you mind me coming over to get started on that portrait? I don’t want to go back to my apartment just yet.” She said, the shaking in her voice stopping.

 

Smiling at the prospect of painting my other muse, I answered, “Yes, you can come over. I have nothing else to do today.” She hmm’ed and said goodbye, hanging up on me.

 

17 minutes had passed when I heard a knock on the door. I rushed down and opened it, finding Samodra on the other side, still dressed in that purple jacket. I stepped aside and gestured her to come in, “Please come inside and make yourself at home.” She nodded and walked in as I shut the door behind her.

 

As we headed towards my room, she suddenly flinched a little. I turned around and asked, “Are you okay?” She said, “Yeah. I just a little tired. And Paranoia doesn’t help.”

 

I sighed and started walking again towards my room. I decided to ask another question. “You have paranoia?” I heard a shrugging sound as she said, “Yup. Paranoia is a trolling son of a gun, but he looks out for me. I just wish he would make me react to tiny noises less. Doesn’t help when Fear and Dreams get in on the fun.” Then the rest of the walk became silent. 

 

We had just reached my room and I was pulling out my art kit when I realized something. When Samodra spoke of the emotions she told she had forgotten about as if they were individual people, and not some feelings that everyone but she knows. It made me a tad curiouser about her, but I ignored it, and asked her to sit on a wooden stool in front of me.

 

She obeyed my commands and sat down, whilst taking her hood off, exposing her gorgeous, blank face. I began painting away, filling the blank canvas with color. But after awhile, I stopped. The portrait was unsatisfactory. It wasn’t the subject, nor was it some kind of miscalculation of her features. It just felt all wrong, and I didn’t know what went wrong. So I asked Samodra for her opinion.

 

She stared at her portrait dazedly, and said bluntly, “It’s horrible.” 

 

My heart hammered in my chest and I began to stammer. I had not expected her to be so harsh with her words. So I exclaimed, “Why!?”

 

Samodra just spindled her fingers together and said, “The coloring is all wrong.” She pointed at the canvas. “You’re using normal colors in a portrait. If you really wanna capture my ‘essence’ then you’re going to be in for a loop.” 

 

I slumped back into my seat and asked again, this time more politely, “And why would I be into a loop?” 

 

She picked at her nails and said, “It’s because that no matter what type of color scheme you choose, it will always end up looking distorted and wrong. In my opinion, you can’t capture the true colors of the human soul because the soul is not just comprised of color. There’s smell, taste, feeling, virtues, sins, and a lot of other stuff.” She stood up and grabbed the canvas, facing it towards me while I tried to comprehend her words. How had a matter of opinion turned into a philosophical rant? 

 

But my silence did not deter her as she continued, “It’s one of the reasons true beauty cannot exist. Because beauty is a term of comparison. You could say something is ugly, then suddenly it’s beautiful. The human soul is but a matter of contradicting and uniting factors that make up a person. Life, death, lies, truth, imprisonment and freedom. Each pair contradict each other individually yet still exist as the same whole. Life needs death, truth needs lies and freedom needs imprisonment, because if one of the two doesn’t exist, then what use is the only one left behind?”

 

She placed the canvas back down and rolled her hands around. Then she looked at me again, and finally concluded her impromptu speech. “That’s why trying to color me will be almost impossible, with so many of my own traits that I’m aware of, you’ll never find a stable personality within me. And thus, renders trying to find a proper color scheme practically useless, because an ever changing and aware soul is a tricky one. As I would know.” 

 

She sat at her stool and said something akin to a poem, “I am thou, thou art I. To be one with all those traits would be a hardy task indeed, but such is the journey of life. Starting from a beginning to the end. You only have to awaken to your own undecided potential.”

 

After that, she stopped. Staring at me as if expecting me to say something. But how could I? She had just went off on a tangent about the soul when all I had asked was why she decided my portrait of her was horrible. But those words resonated within me, something at the back of my head started to whisper. Especially on that last sentence, what had she meant?

 

Realizing I was stalling, I said, “My apologies for not answering immediately. I was just thinking about what you just said. But we’re wasting time. What do you think we should do?”

 

And suddenly, she smiled. But almost immediately after she gave me that smile, I saw that her grin was fake, forced even, to just give me some comfort. “Why don’t you just start over? Grab a new canvas and draw my outline in pencil first. Once you finally settle on a color, I’ll come over again so you can finish it.”

 

I agreed to her suggestion, albeit a bit reluctantly. Tossing away the failed painting and grabbing another blank one. I picked up my lead pencil and started drawing, Samodra sitting perfectly still, that fake smile long since returning to that emotionless face. In all honesty, she looks better empty and hopeless than her pretending to be happy, which is a rather foreboding thought.

 

A few hours later, I finished my initial sketch, and as I hated to admit it, Samodra was right. The empty sketch seemed to resonate better to me than any color palette I could think of. She also seemed to think so, and complimented me before crushing my rising pride by saying that her idea was right all along, as if I needed a reminder of my own blindness.

 

I walked her back to the front door and said my goodbyes, she returned the farewells and walked out towards the flower shop. Putting on black and purple headphones blasting music along the way.

 

For the rest of the week, I did not see her at all. The most I’ve heard of her was when she was working. Even so, I could not get her words out of my head. Not even when Takamaki showed up one day out of the blue and asked me to paint her did I stop thinking. 

 

It was only when I went into Madarame’s Palace and gained Goemon as a companion and a Persona that her words finally made sense. 

 

And for some odd reason, Joker has the same feeling as Samodra, if a bit weaker. Joker was like glue, holding the group together as friends under circumstance and bonds.

 

Samodra Aimee’s was like ribbons and lullabies, reaching and summoning people to her willingly, like a family and a most precious treasure.

* * *

A/N: And that is that! You got to see Yusuke. You got mentionings of the Metaverse and you got more context on Aimee!

 

Now unlike a lot of people, Aimee is a very expanding and freeform character. And I enjoy creating her story. Especially, that philosophy rant, and there will be more to come. This chapter focuses on Aimee’s mindset instead of interaction, because in Aimee’s mind, there is no form of interaction with another human being at this point that she’s fully comfortable with. 

 

You have to understand, Aimee had just lost her whole world and everything precious to her, and was dumped into a new one where her words could spell the end of her. She’s trying to deal with the situation, but as mentioned, she’s only 13 years old. She doing things at her age that she’s never had to before at that point.

 

Yusuke is the first bout of normal interaction she ever had that was only partially faked.

 

You might be thinking she’s a bitch and a mad woman or maybe even a Mary-Sue, but as the story expands on her character, you’ll see that she has genuine reasons to act the way she has, but I’m getting too far ahead of myself. No spoilers!

 

But next up, features a new guest and they’re last name starts with a M and ends with an A. That is all for this chapter and I will see you all, next time. BUH BYE EVERYONE!


	3. Fool Rank I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is foreshadowing, philosophy, and a weird thing going on with the Arcanas.

**A/N: Welcome to P5: STC! Sorry for being late and you don’t have to forgive me, I already know I’m stupid. But I’m wasting your time and generally don’t have a lot of things to say so here we go!**

* * *

Akira didn’t know what he was getting into when he met her the first time.

 

Back then, all he had were some rumors, a short meeting where they didn’t even talk to each other, and small snippings and opinions that came from Yusuke. He didn’t know that she was uncaring. He didn’t know that she was ruthless. He didn’t know about everything she did. He knew her, but he didn’t. And it drove him up the wall thinking of what he could’ve done if he just pried in deeper. Grabbed a verbal and emotional knife and just twisted her vault of secrets open…

 

But he couldn’t. That day, that casual hangout, the time when he could have prevented all this. He had a small voice in his head, including his Personas, an inkling of doing that very action. But he and his Personas decided against it. All because of the absolute  _ soul-crushing face _ she was making. He had never seen anyone look so broken, so torn,  _ so shattered _ . And neither had his Personas. So he held back, and now regretting that decision more than ever.

 

But that’s all to be revealed at the end, so why don’t we start from the beginning? Where it all the began. Where the threads of fate started to unravel at the seams. Where a choice would decide the world’s future or ending. The day when the Wild Card, Akira Kurusu, and leader of the Phantom Thieves, decided to stop at Inokashira Park to talk with Morgana.

<

It was Sunday, a day to cool down and unwind. Today was a break day to Akira Kurusu, who inhaled in a breath of fresh air in Inokashira Park. Walking next to him was a black cat named Morgana.

 

“Akira, are you sure we should be taking a break when the deadline’s in 11 days?” Asked Morgana, stretching out and basking in the sunlight.

 

“I’m pretty sure. I mean, excluding this day, we still have 10 days left and we’re pretty close to the Treasure. I’m positive that taking a break for a day won’t be the end of the world.” Answered Akira, giving a slightly unnerving stare to Morgana, who cringed under his expression.

 

“Alright alright. Just stop making that face at me. It’s creeping me out.” Morgana said.

 

Akira yawned a little and checked his IMs. Groaning at seeing the number of new requests to hang out. He ignored them and switched off his smartphone before stuffing it his pocket. He’s here to relax  _ alone. _ Not deal with a lot of people! He liked them all yes, but it gets pretty overwhelming when you have so many people to hang out with.

 

He yawned and sat down at a bench. Morgana curling up beside him and purring as he pet his fur. Akira smiled and little. ‘ _ This is nice.’ _ He thought. But suddenly, the peace and quiet was disturbed when someone near him spoke. “Is that cat yours?” She asked. Voice clearly feminine. Akira stopped his petting, he and Morgana looking up in annoyance before realizing who she was. 

 

“Aren’t you that girl that Yusuke was chasing around a few days ago?” He asked back. Remembering this girl vaguely from his memory. What was her name again? “Aimee Samodra. That’s my name.” She answered his internal question. Shocking him quite nicely. “How did you know that? Was I thinking out loud?” He asked. “No, it’s because-” She started, but suddenly tensed up and tugged her hood down lower. Covering the upper half of her face. “Nothing. Forget I said anything. It was stupid.” She insisted. Akira, knowing when a bad theme was coming up, immediately switched topics.

 

“So you were asking earlier if this cat is mine-” “I’m not a cat!” “He is. His name’s Morgana. And I’m Akira Kurusu.” He pointed the attention at the hissing cat-human whatever. 

 

Aimee took a seat next to him and started to softly scratch Morgana, earning her purrs of satisfaction. “Morgana huh? What a nice name. You’re alive, aren’t you? What a good life you must have.” Akira and Morgana were slightly shocked. Most people would say how good or how cute he was. No one has ever complimented him for being alive. Although Morgana wanted to join the conversation, he was distracted when Aimee picked him up and placed him on her lap and started petting him fully. Making him close his eyes in bliss.

 

It was up to Akira to continue the conversation. “What did you mean about him being alive?” Aimee turned to face him, her face still hidden. “Life is a precious thing. It’s not something to be wasted and slandered upon. But many people destroy life everyday.” She said. Akira nodded as if knowing where this conversation was going. “Murderers right?” His face twisted in disgust. But as he looked back at the hooded girl, he felt as if he disappointed her with such an answer.

 

“No Kurusu-san. They’re not destroyers of life. They’re takers of life. There’s a difference.” She gazed around the beautiful park. Her gaze lingering for a while on the lake just past the red fence before turning back to Akira. “People who kill, people who hire people to kill. They take lives. They’re called takers by me because the people who died didn’t have their lives destroyed by them, they were taken.” She reached out with her free hand and picked up a fallen leaf on the ground. Turning it around over and over. “Like this leaf. It’s going to dry up and die soon. But it’s life was taken from it, by force or the wind or just loosening up.” She blew the leaf into the water of the lake, watching it float off. “Destroyers of life are another word I use to describe the act of losing all will to live.”

 

Akira watched the leaf as well. Enraptured by the explanation that almost reminded him of Igor. Vague, alarming, but ethereal in nature. But he had to ask. “What do mean by ‘the act of losing all will to live?’” Morgana, now soundly asleep, snored softly as Aimee pulled her hands away from him. “I’m talking about will, of course. Will is one of the most important factors in life. It’s what drives you do things, do nothing, or do many things in your daily routine. Most people take it for granted, I think?” She tilted her head to the right before stiffening her posture. “Like how you have the will to breathe and to not breathe. The will to think, the will to speak, the will to want to live.”

 

“That’s why when you lose all that will, the death of your body means nothing when the heart and soul has already died. But what I love about will…” She sighed deeply through her nose, as if wishfully thinking of what she was about to say next. “Is that others can pick up a dead person and help them come back to life. To pick up the pieces and move forwards towards a future.” She turned to him, dropping her hood and letting all her hair fluff out. It looked quite thick and soft, Akira thought. Her eyes seemed to be more expressive, but he blinked and they were back to their usual broken look. He realized after looking closer, her eyes seemed to have web cracks in them. Like a cracked mirror or window along her irises. If the eyes were the window to the soul, then her window had been broken. No one able to see behind the jagged cracks that barely held together.

 

“I love a lot of things Kurusu-san. Things that may seem to make no sense to most people, or any person. I see things. Lots of things. I hear noises, from gritty to melodic. I don’t understand why, and I don’t understand why someone like me deserves this.” She buried her face in her hands and Akira realized something about Aimee before everyone else did…

 

She was different.

 

She wasn’t a normal person living in modern society. She wasn’t a poor person or a rich person. She was an average person out of place with the average. She didn’t fit in with many social cliques, nor any job descriptions, he couldn’t even see her sharing anything with his Phantom Thieves, which were all different in their own way. Hell, one of them is the cat that’s sleeping on her lap! He couldn’t even see her alongside Igor, Carolina and Justine. She was a unique person. One in the status of a trillion.

 

“Why don’t you think you deserve it?” He asked. She muttered a bit as she picked up Morgana and placed him again next to him. Waking him up in the process. “Nya! What are you doing! I was having a really good dream! Don’t make me scratch you lady!” He screeched, which must’ve sounded like irritated meows for Morgana. Aimee smiled a fake apologetic grin and turned back towards Akira. “I don’t think I deserve a lot of things. But you seem to be interested in learning more about my ideals and myself?” She asked. Akira nodded as if to confirm that statement. 

 

“Okay. Any time you want to listen to me speak about philosophy or meaning or something else just come here on the weekends or when I’m free. Let’s exchange contact info, but don’t expect me to IM or even call you a lot. I sometimes forget why I even have a phone, aaaaannnd now I remember it’s for my job. Shizz, why do I always forget stuff?” Aimee rambled none-sensically before stopping to give him her ID and phone number, but Akira saw it. The way her eyes seemed to mend the moment she started rambling. The edges of the cracks disappeared, but they reappeared as fast as they went. And even more cracked than before. Akira discovered something again…

 

She’s not allowing herself to heal.

 

Aimee was clearly a mess. She was broken and unable to fix herself because she won’t  _ allow  _ herself too. And the discovery of more cracks than before meant that she was undermining every attempt to mend herself. He wondered if that little ramble was a small sliver of her real, true self. Her rebel self. If so, he was looking forward to meeting the real Aimee.

 

They exchanged IDs and that’s when Akira heard it as time slowed to a crawl. 

 

_ I am thou, thou art I _

_ Thou has acquired a new vow _

 

_ It shall become the wings of revelation _

_ And breaketh thy chains of animosity _

 

_ With the birth of the . . . Persona _

_ I have received the waves of blessing _

_ That shall lead to answers and new power _

 

Akira’s eyes widened as he heard the usual Confidant dialogue change. Revelation? Animosity? Answers? And his eyes especially widened as he watched the Confidant card fly in. Signifying Rank 1 and her skill.  **‘Willpower: The will to do and the will to don’t do are strong. Gives a choice to randomly get a chance to get a second or even a triple turn with Joker. For the cost of the party member after you to be stopped/guarded immediately.’**

 

_ ‘Her Arcana! Her Arcana is-’  _ But he didn’t time to finish his thought as time started rolling again normally. Aimee stood up, turned around and waved goodbye to Akira. “Bye Kurusu-san!” And she walked back to her apartment which wasn’t very far from the park. 

 

Akira just waved back as he tried to massage the massive headache out of his system. This always happened whenever he got a new Confidant. His Personas, who had been unaware of Aimee, now stared at the image the tarot card of her Arcana projected. A black and white copy of Aimee.

 

“ _ It seems you have gained another ally. Good on you.”  _ Arsene said. Akira nodded, but he had to ask him something.

 

“Hey Arsene, Morgana?” Akira started.

 

_ “Yes, Akira?”  _ Arsene replied. “What is it?” Along with Morgana.

 

“Has there ever been someone with two Arcana’s before?” Akira asked. They were both stunned into silence.

 

The other Personas made way for Arsene as he grabbed the card, the picture disappearing as he did. He and the other Personas clustered around him as they stared at the card. They all looked shocked the moment they looked at it. The Hanged Man and Hierophant Personas were the most affected.

 

There it said, “Aimee Samodra, Confidant Rank I.”

 

“The Hanged Hierophant.”

* * *

**A/N: I have brought you guys an early Christmas or late Thanksgiving present even though I don’t even celebrate Thanksgiving or Christmas! Hey everybody! Sorry for the long hiatus on this thing, I was trying to do an entirely different Confidant at first, but that utterly failed. I’m going to add it in during the Museum of Vanity Arc but the other ones, maybe two more before the official one? It’s a plot one.**

 

**Anyway, I wanted to fill out a little character sheet for Aimee as we go along in the story and find out her credentials and stuff. Here:**

 

**Name: Aimee Samodra**

 

**Age: 13**

 

**Sex/Gender: Female/Polygendered**

 

**Preference: (There’s no way you would figure this out on your own.) Demiromantic Pansexual**

 

**Birthdate: ?**

 

**Nationality: ?**

 

**Religion: ?**

 

**Arcana: The Hanged Hierophant**

 

**Alliance: ?**

 

**Confidant Bonuses: By learning and discussing the world and its ways with Aimee. Akira is able to use those lessons in the Metaverse, where such lessons make up its very existence. But while powerful, the skills have their drawbacks. Like a price and most of the better moves get left up to chance. But this is to balance things out because her stuff is way overpowered. Like putting every enemy under an ailment of your choosing without the cost of SP and a 100% hit rate. But the price for that is that support spells can’t be used until the ailment dies down after three turns. Equivalent exchange, or as Aimee calls it, Contradiction Sharing. They get karma you get karma.**

 

**And that’s that for the character sheet. I’ll add more as the story goes on, but send in your answers for the blanks if you want to.**

 

**But I wanted to discuss my writing of Aimee’s Confidant Link with Akira. The general idea is for Akira to be, not the person who heals her completely, but the person who gets her to stop stopping herself from being healed. Like in the paragraph before. She’s not letting herself heal. Any time she does, she breaks down again and becomes even more broken. She’s not taking the medicine and is hurting herself even more if it’s let down her throat.**

 

**Their interactions will help Aimee stop preventing herself from being healed, with increasing moments of MMM Aimee or the real Aimee slips into STC Aimee. You see how in MMM Aimee seems like a mom or an older sister who has gone a ways off the deep end. But in STC, Aimee is apathetic, quiet, introverted and intelligent. Compared to MMM, you’ll see the difference.**

 

**But anyway, I’ve had enough time here. Next up is the first female to ever come in. Find out who it is on the next chapter. Whenever that’s going to be out.**

 

**BUH BYE!**


	4. Interlude 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The origins of Aimee Samodra. And how she got trapped in this world. Also, the mental breakdown of a prepubescent girl.

When Aimee Samodra went to sleep in her bed. She feels a full nothing. 

She fell down and down and down in an infinite pit of red and tracks. Eyes seeing nothing, hearing nothing, feeling nothing. As the deathly fall quickened its pace. She didn’t cry out in pain when the impact of the floor left her breathless, and maybe with some broken bones. She didn’t register the pain. She did, however, register the ginormous chalice in front of her. Grimy and filthy. Red strings filling its emptiness.

She rose to her feet. Sight and hearing returned. She saw an infinite number of cages spiralling in a circular shape. Their insides were a pure red while the people inside them were only faint silhouettes. They cried out desperately for their desires to be seen reality. The pure emotions, their bodily mutations, and the heavy blanket of  _ hopelesshopefulhopelesshopeful  _ made her want to giggle. Their pain and lamentation tickling something in her heart.

“ **Young one. Step forth.”** A disembodied voice resonated within her head. She took a slight step back of caution. Before listening to the voice and stepping towards the chalice. Her mind knew that this was a dangerous and unexpected situation. That she should panic or run or scream. But her heart would not listen. It shut down all emotional and instinctive responses. She felt nothing. She can only tell her mind to calculate and apply.

She stopped a little ways from it. “What do you want?” She asked.

**“I acquire your aid in certain ventures. Help me and I shall reward you handsomely.”** The voice said.

“Nope.” Was Aimee’s blunt reply.

There was a stagnant pause.  **“Why not?”**

“Because, I don’t want any rewards. Material objects or any kind of foothold have no attraction to me.”

**“Then what of your family?”** Aimee froze in place. The voice gained a smug edge at the reaction.  **“Your dependency on them for feelings is rather pitiful. You could selectively choose what emotion is appropriate to feel during an event from any of the general public surrounding you.”**

A red tendril slithered up to her and stroked her face. She leaned away from it, her heart pumping rapidly to supply blood to her short-circuiting brain. “How do you know this?” 

**“I have been observing many worlds,”** The voice explained. The silhouettes in cages started to get antsy.  **“Trying to find the right candidate to bring me the victory that is rightly brought.”**

The tendril reshaped itself into a hand and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Aimee was starting to hyperventilate for more oxygen. Her brain was eating up more and more. She couldn’t breathe. Her family. Her family. What was happening? Was this even a dream?

**“And I have found you. My perfect little herald.”** The voice continued. Seemingly uncaring for the rapidly deteriorating psyche of the girl. He had threatened her family with a tone. He was shattering the delicate illusion of a dreamscape. The prepubescent girl was impossibly fighting the signs of a mental breakdown. The ground fractured underneath her feet. She was too smart. Too logical. Her mind quickly wrapping around the fact that this was a reality. Too bad she didn’t have the emotional state that could handle her intelligence. 

**“You will obey me. Follow my directions. Do this, and no harm will befall your family.”** The voice gave the ultimatum.  **“If not… then their lives are forfeit.”** Aimee felt an oppressive power crushing down on her, and it was then that she realized that he could make his threat a reality. Her parents! HER SISTER! HeR broThER! hER BaBY sIsTer!

“No! NO! NONONONONO!” Aimee screamed. Fingernails digging into her scalp and opening scabs. Leaving her fingers coated with bloody smears. “YOU CAN’T DO THIS! YOU CAN’T DO THIS!” Her eyes grew fierce. “IF YOU TOUCH A SINGLE ONE OF THEM I WILL KILL YOU!” 

A lookalike of her with golden eyes hugged her from behind. And she exploded into flames. The voice smirked victoriously at the result of his ploy. He knew that the girl’s potential was stronger, just as strong or stronger than any of the Fools. So when she appeared in a costume and an unnaturally beautiful woman by her side, he full out grinned. The woman, or Persona, wore a simple black gossamer dress. And looked like an older version of her user. The most eye catching thing were the butterfly wings unfolding on her back. They seemed to contain the universe itself in its furls. Every flap created stars, moved galaxies, exploded worlds, and ended lifeforms. A mask appeared at the top of her head. Hot tears of red liquid poured from Aimee’s eyes. The irises having transformed into the coloration of a human heart. That expanded and contracted as if beating. 

The voice was honestly disturbed looking into them.

A sword of pure energy appeared in her right hand. Thrumming with great power. The jailed ones cried with masochistic joy at feeling one as powerful as their Grail come to life. She got into a stance. “If you touch a single cell on them, I will tear you to pieces.”

**“And risk destroying the only chance you have to get home?”** The voice informed. Pulling out his trump card. At that little fact, Aimee’s resolve wavered. Her sword hand gripped the sword tighter and shook.

“W-What d-d-do you m-mean?” Even her voice was shaking at the little sentence.

She almost felt eyes staring right into her soul.  **“I mean I will keep you locked away forever from the thing most precious to you.”** Her mask was cracking. Her Persona was crying out in agony. Clawing at her wings, pulling them with her strength. The voice had to be sure that she would obey his every wish.

**“A home with loved ones.”**

The sword fell out of her grip, her mask shattered and her Persona ripped its wings off and bubbled with a terrifying roar.

Aimee cried with pain, with anguish, her heart felt like it was stabbed and ripped apart into a million pieces. This thing, this voice, forced her mind to understand that this was real. What it could do was real. And it broke her a thousand times over. Every bottled up emotion broke free through her tears. Being reborn and soon falling to their deaths. Aimee briskly thought about how she would have liked to joined them. Death was the lesser evil compared to this feeling.

Her Persona shrieked and writhed in absolute agony. Its previous form transforming into something monstrous. Her dress turned red, her perfect skin bruising with black, blue, and purple until there was nothing left of the original complexion. Her head burst open to unveil a pure white water lily stained with the after gore from its blooming. The wings she tore off herself ripped themselves into small, mosaic-like pieces. Floating to recreate the image of the broken butterfly mask like her user. There. A shape. But unable to glue itself back together permanently. It cradled its new head and whimpered in pain.

The voice bore witness to the entire process, the girl and the Persona were thoroughly broken to the point of mutation. He seized his chance. Every single tendril split into two, the originals still laid within the chalice, and the doubles flew towards the girl and attached every single one of the them to her back.

Aimee arched back with a silent scream. Weeping at sudden intrusion of her mindscape.  **_‘Good,’_ ** The voice thought.  **_‘Even with a shattered psyche, she spirit is still strong enough that her going into a mad, psychotic hysteria will be enough for her to break free of this dimension.’_ ** He glanced at the tendrils and at the twitching mass beneath it.  **_‘The only things strong enough to keep her here are the Strings of Desire. Using every person’s desires as a chain to anchor herself here until I let her go.’_ **

Meanwhile, as the voice had his internal monologue. Aimee’s body felt like it was going to explode. With every new tendril, an amass of that person’s emotions filled her mind. She could feel it unravelling at the seams just to make room of the influx of feelings. Blood trickled out of her nose and mouth as more and more emotions risked her heart to combust. Trust. Happiness. Fear. Anger. Apathy. Hate. Deceit. Ambition. Logic. Sadness. Nervousness. So many. TOO MANY!

**“My name is Yaldabaoth, little one.”** The voice said as the world distorted around her.  **“Keep this a secret will you?”**

**_RepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressrepressREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSREPRESSrEPressREprEssSSerperRepressrePrESSrEPressREprEssSSerperRepressrePrESSrEPressREprEssSSerperRepressrePrESSrEPressREprEssSSerperRepressrePrESSrEPressREprEssSSerperRepressrePrESSrEPressREprEssSSerperRepressrePrESSrEPressREprEssSSerperRepressrePrESSrEPressREprEssSSerperRepressrePrESSrEPressREprEssSSerperRepressrePrESSrEPressREprEssSSerperRepressrePrESSrEPressREprEssSSerperRepressrePrESSrEPressREprEssSSerperRepressrePrESSrEPressREprEssSSerperRepressrePrESSrEPressREprEssSSerperRepressrePrESS#( &$^*((%$#^@%#*&^(*$^#!$&$$&%*(&^@#%&^^#$&(&$%&(*&#^%$%&&**()&#$%^^*!@%(^%)#!”:*(L>@>:@#K$SM:#L$^$^$*MM@$M&M$H3LPM50853^%!@$3645678763@#^**^%^*($YGE#^NDSNHK(^%*#@&*%@_ **

**Repress**

**REPRESS**

**_rEPrEsS$@ &^%*&*$^^%@#%&&*^&*$@*($#+!_&)$!)_ **

.

.

.

.

.

.

When Aimee Samodra wakes up in a train station. She knows she’s in Persona 5. Her family is being threatened with death. She can’t go home to her dimension. She’s the slave to an antagonistic god. And she feels an empty nothing.

Her eyes are red, with no tears to shed. Brown eyes blank and cracked. And unable to feel anything, but emptiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey guys! I’m so sorry for the wait. I’ve been officially banned from FF.net and Ao3 by my parents for the entirety of my existence. Fortunately, they didn’t ban me from writing. This is the soonest I can get it to you guys. And again, really sorry for the wait.
> 
> The next few chapters are almost done, and MMM might go on hiatus until I can finish this story. Thank you for all your continued support!
> 
> ~Tree of Knowledge~
> 
> The Shattering: A Persona and its potential is based on the heart and mind. In Persona 5, you unleash your Personas during emotional distress and coming to terms with your rebellious side. However, if a Persona user is to suffer a mental breakdown, their mask with shatter and the next time it appears, its like a poorly glued together art project.
> 
> Persona Mutation: Personas are also affected by the Shattering. Mutating into a horrible monstrosity to represent the user’s broken mindset. Aimee’s Persona represents happiness and love lost. The bruised skin shows her beating up herself, the flower is the last means of her happiness being tainted. And the wings are her emotions all together.
> 
> The Strings of Desire: These are what’s being used to chain down Aimee. However, the side effect of using them to hold her down with the burdens and desires of the entire world. Is the emotions and feelings that come with it. A person’s emotions are enough to fill their own brain to distress. Forcing 7 billion people’s feelings into one human brain is enough to make it fracture.The overwhelming feelings near made her go into a coma, go completely insane, or die. No one should be able to handle those tendrils.


End file.
